Breaking the Silence
by AMMC
Summary: ...Indeed, it was quiet for once within the castle. A silence that was not welcomed by Fergus. Not welcomed at all.


Breaking the Silence

I don't own Dragon Age XD

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It was quiet in the hallways of the Castle of Highever. No sound could be heard, as if swallowed by the impenetrable shadows that latched themselves upon the walls, paying no heed to the flickering flames of the torches. Indeed, it was quiet for once within the castle. A silence that was not welcomed by Fergus. Not welcomed at all.

That was how most eight-year olds thought, after all. But that did not change the facts. Especially to him, within the realm of his castle, his home. There was always some sound to be heard, as small as it could be, and that would bring comfort to him, as oppressing silences always nearly killed him. During these harsh, cold winter nights he would be running up and down these corridors in an attempt to see if the world still breathed, and would normally be met by the chuckle of his father and the scolding of his mother.

But he would not dare to do so on this night.

Fergus shook his head. He was a Cousland, for Maker's sake! What was a little silence to him, future Teyrn of Highever? Nothing, that's what! There was nothing he couldn't do--after all, a Cousland always performs their duty. And if father says that he had to be as quiet as possible, if only for tonight, then so be it. That was what he would do.

That didn't make him feel any less uneasy, however.

And yet, he couldn't help but feel just the tiniest bit excited. Despite all this silence and darkness, and the horrible weight that seemed to rest in his stomach, he couldn't help but grin. Just a bit, of course, but he couldn't deny it was there. He had been waiting for a while now, and eagerly he awaited to hear the news, for someone to come and tell him what was going on.

But that required movement, which in turn created sound. And so, until he was called for, Fergus would, not quite patiently, but close enough, lie against the wall, listening for anything. For it would not only tell him that yes, the world did still move, but finally he would know what was happening.

This lasted several more hours in the painful silence. There was a time or two where Fergus thought he could hear someone yelling, but it was so far off and it had been so quiet that he wasn't sure if his mind was playing tricks on him or not. And, really, a child can only sit there patiently for so long before the grasp of sleep overcomes him, and his spirit left to wander the Fade without really realising it. But he would prevail, Fergus would think everytime his eyelids nearly dropped. He would not sleep until this ordeal was over. He wanted to hear this very silence break into a thousand Maker-forsaken pieces!

Thus, when he could hear the faint footsteps approaching his room, Fergus almost cried with relief--almost, for he would never show to anyone just how much these moments of silence scared him, and how the shadows that dance on the wall could create monsters beyond his wildest dreams--as he rushed to the door, opening it with such eager enthusiasm that poor Mother Mallol actually gave a yelp of surprise.

But still, the Mother would not tell him what was happening, instead slowly taking his hand into hers and leading them down the hallways slowly. Fergus was disappointed, truth be told, thinking that this was just as bad as the never-ending silence.

It was only when he was allowed into his parents room that the silence was smashed into tiny, tiny bits. Fergus looked surprised--at his father's look of pride, his mother's exhausted but satisfied face and, most importantly, the towel in her arms that seemed to be crying as loud as its little lungs could handle. Perhaps even more.

Glancing at his father, Fergus decided it was time to join, being careful to be quiet, despite how much he hated to do so. He may be young, but he wasn't stupid--even he knew now wasn't the time to be as loud as he could be. So he simply settled for resting on his mother's bed and asking a small, simple question.

His mother weakly smiled to him, pressing the living bundle of cloth into his arms, whispering to him in her gentle voice. Fergus nodded, amazement flooding through him. So, he was a big brother now, was he? Him? It was so hard to believe, but as he stared now into those strong eyes--the eyes of a powerful, fierce Cousland, Fergus thought--that had stopped crying, Fergus himself couldn't help but smile, and feel proud himself.

With just one look, he could tell that the silence had been worth it--just for them.


End file.
